


Take Note

by VulpesVulpes713



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura and Romelle, Bisexual Lance, Everyone is Gay and Happy, Laith, Love Notes, M/M, Voltron, adam and shiro, internalized homophobia (for a bit), klance, lance pov, vld
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 06:31:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16759822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Lance has two notes for two people.He really should have labelled them.





	Take Note

Lance has two notes in his desk.

One for his mortal enemy, rival of all rivals, shitty mullet loving bad boy wannabe _Keith_.

**_Fight me you coward_ ** **,** it reads, signed with a frowny face and badly drawn fist.

The other is for the love of his young life, class president and absolute goddess among women  _ Allura _ .

**_You’re beautiful and I would love to take you out for dinner at 7_ ** , it says, signed with a heart in place of the ‘a’ in his name.

Lance has two notes in his desk, and he hands them out at lunch, sneaking them into the books of each recipient.

Allura gives him intimidating stares for the rest of the day that Lance misinterprets as flirty.

And Keith shows up at his door at quarter to 7, dressed in a tie and holding a bouquet of roses with a sheepish smile and a murmured excuse about not wanting to be late.

Lance had two notes in his desk, and it’s then he realizes he may have mixed them up.

* * *

Several thoughts go through his mind at once:

  1. Keith is supposed to be his enemy. He hates the guy. They always compete and Lance always loses and he…hates him okay? He does.
  2. Keith is also unexpectedly good looking dressed in something other than that baggy jacket and…fuck man..he even tied his hair back. Lance can feel his heart making googly eyes. And he’s…confused.
  3. Because he loves Allura. He’s sure of it. He has for almost a year now and he was really expecting to see her so not only is he initially surprised to see Keith, he’s also disappointed. Embarrassed. Shamed.
  4. But Keith is here, smiling at him? Making his face warm and his palms sweaty and god. GOD. Lance doesn’t know what to do or say.



So he panics, and slams the door on Keith’s face, and runs to his room to hide. Because he’s questioning everything now. And he can’t speak. And he sure as hell can’t let Keith see him like this.

He waits a good hour before he leaves the safety of his bed, and sneaks over to the door.

Keith is gone, and the roses have been thrown to the ground by the front step.

Lance feels something tug at his chest: guilt or regret or pity…he doesn’t know. But he picks up the flowers anyway, and when he does a tiny note falls out from amongst the petals.

**_I think you’re amazing too. I have for a while_ , ** signed with a small hippo holding a flower in its teeth.

It’s cute. It’s…fuck. It makes Lance’s pulse flutter for no reason at all. At least not one he wants to find out.

And he hates himself for how he reacted. He shouldn’t have run. He should have explained. He should have…

But he didn’t.

Because he and Keith aren’t like this. They aren’t nice to one another. They don’t pass notes with adorable drawings and sweet phrases signed with hearts and smiles.

They’re opposites.

They’re enemies.

They’re-

_ They’re…! _

Now he’s not so sure. He doesn’t know about anything anymore.

He thinks maybe…just maybe…his rivalry with Keith could be something else.

But one thing is certain: Keith hates him now, and Lance isn’t sure how to fix it.

He’s not sure if he can.

He’s not even sure if he should.

He places the roses on the counter but can’t bring himself to through away the note. So he holds onto it and returns to his bed, too numb to cry, too confused to think.

He falls asleep and wonders if it’s okay to like someone of the same gender, scared of the feelings that small piece of paper brought.

He’s not gay. He likes girls. He’s normal. He’s not…he doesn’t-

On Monday he’s gloomy. Absolutely miserable. Confused and enduring a headache he woke up with two mornings ago.

And then he sees Allura approach, surrounded by a group of her friends. His chest lifts - he feels himself smile. Because this makes sense. This is how he’s supposed to react.

It’s okay because it’s Allura and she’s a girl and Lance tries not to make comparisons between how he feels now and how he felt then, with Keith…

He smiles, and Allura rolls up her sleeves.

“Let’s fight then.”

The smile vanishes from his face: tail between its legs as Allura smirks menacingly.

He wishes he never wrote those notes.

* * *

He’s lucky Allura is understanding, as her fists slowly find their way back to her sides as he hastily explains the situation.

Not  _ all _ of it, and not all at once, as her friends are still lingering and the last thing Lance wants is a rumour spreading about his...well…

He could care less about the fight. No one in their right mind would challenge Allura in the first place, let alone win. So he already knows that the school will be whispering about their would-be-tussel. It’s the  _ other _ thing he’s worried about. The reason behind the note mix up, the consequences he’d faced.

“It wasn’t for you!” he nearly shouts, holding his arms out in front of him as Allura frowns and straightens her shoulders.

“The note?”

Lance nods, feeling his face flush at the sound of her voice. God he has it bad. But it’s good. It’s reassuring.

“Yeah,” he goes on, rubbing the back of his neck as he takes a step forward. He easily slips back into his charming self, ignoring the fear he’d felt moments before. “It was for someone else.”

“Oh,” Allura almost looks...what, disappointed?  _ Is she that eager for a fight?! _ Lance thinks in panic, wondering if he could potentially outrun her should she change her mind. But a smile replaces the expression quickly enough, and Lance drinks it in as it’s aimed his way. “Well lucky for you then.”

“Yeah…” he replies dreamily. “Lucky..”

“Who was it for then? And why did it end up in my book?”

He coughs: throat suddenly itchy as he briefly considers lying. But there’s no point. Allura is class president: if she wanted she could just go through the classroom video feed and find out herself. Lance doubts she would  _ actually _ do that, but it’s not worth the risk. 

“It was for-” but he breaks off, finding himself unable to say the name, “-someone else. I got them mixed up.”

“Lance, you really shouldn’t go around picking fights with people-” Allura begins to reprimand, but Lance can’t focus. She said his name, and her foreign accent just makes it sound so much better. He thinks he has chills.

“-what was my note supposed to say?”

He jerks his head up, blood draining from his face as she stares at him.

_ At  _ him, at him. Not the passing gaze he’d gotten used to. He has her full attention now, and where before he’d imagined himself in this very same situation as brave and charismatic, the best he can bring himself to do is a shy giggle. 

Allura raises a brow, letting Lance know she already has an idea of the answer to her question. He tells her anyways though. Now is his chance.

“It was just me stating the obvious,” he starts, leaning forward as he pulls forth from the stores of courage he keeps stocked at all times. He waits for Allura to prod further, but she doesn’t, so he goes on. “How lovely you are-”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” she interrupts, and Lance’s ego deflates like a balloon mid-breath. “I have a feeling I know where this is going.”

He wants to be hopeful, but he can read people fairly well, and Allura doesn’t look like she’s about to jump the gun and ask him out right then and there. 

In fact it’s quite the opposite. She looks like someone who’s just touched weeds on the bottom of a murky lake after being promised there weren’t any there. 

“I…” she sighs, turning towards her friends. “You guys go on ahead of me. I’ll be there in a bit.”

The group of girls exchange a few glances before nodding. They trust Allura. They don’t need her to give them any sort of excuse. 

Lance wishes they would at  _ least _ look somewhat sly and make a few comments about how Allura suddenly grabs him by the upper arm and steers him towards the back building. That would be a  _ great _ rumour for them to spread. 

But alas, they don’t spare him a second glance, and leave without much concern. 

Allura doesn’t speak for a moment, and instead looks around to ensure they’re alone. If Lance hadn’t just seen the expression on her face telling him she knew where this was going...hell….his young imagination would be running wild right about now.

But Allura doesn’t seem to be in the mood for a random make-out session up against the back wall. Instead she looks worried. Anxious. 

It pulls on a different string of Lance’s heart: one meant for sympathy.

“Is there something wrong?” he asks, and she turns back to face him with a reassuring smile.

“No. Not really...it’s just-” she inhales deeply, eyes darting back towards the front entrance of the school. “I like somebody.”

_ Oh.  _

Lance feels….well actually, he’s not sure what he feels. Empty? No… He sort of had a feeling that Allura wouldn’t go for someone like him anyway, so in a way he’d been prepared for this.

Still, he’d hoped for better than the cliché ‘sorry but I like someone else’ excuse. 

“You don’t need to pretend,” he admits, exhaling as his arms grow heavy. “You can just say you don’t like me and-”

“No, really,” Allura urges, and then suddenly she’s pressing up against the wall beside him, eyes wide as she gestures towards the school entrance. “There they are!”

Lance frowns, leaning forward out of curiousity. He’s expecting to see some senior athlete guy, shredded with blond hair and shoulders for days. Typical movie jock stuff. He’s curious but it’s pained, because he knows that whoever Allura has her eyes on will be way out of his league to compete with. 

But still he looks. Only...there’s no guys that match that description. In fact, the only dude Lance can see is-

_ “Matt?!” _

Allura’s face drops, and she leans forward to stare at the same place Lance had been looking.

And then all of a sudden she’s smacking his arm.

“Ew! No, no no no, gross no-” she shivers, and Lance can only watch in utter confusion. “Matt is like a brother to me.”

“I didn’t know you guys hung out.”

“We didn’t,” Allura explains hastily. “It was only after I met Shiro that we became friends. Matt is always hanging around him and Adam so our friend groups just merged and-”

“So it’s Shiro,” Lance hears himself mumble, because  _ of course _ it’s Shiro. How could Lance even pretend not to notice the way those two always hang out? Laughing and being cute with each other… He’d just hoped that Allura wouldn’t go for someone older than her. It had been his one saving grace. 

But before he can sink too deep in self-pity he’s smacked on the arm again, and flinches in surprise as Allura glares his way.

“ _ Shiro?!  _ Are you  _ kidding  _ me?! No. God, you’re - didn’t you know that he and -” but she breaks off with a huff, rolling her eyes as she turns back to the school. “No. And you’re really dense, you know that?”

“Hey-”

“It’s  _ true. _ The person I like is  _ there-” _ she points, and Lance follows the direction of her finger towards the foreign exchange student sitting by themselves by the oak out front. He frowns, glancing back down at Allura, but the girl isn’t paying attention. Her eyes are glued to the spot she showed him, to the person sitting there...to a-

To a girl.

“You like  _ Romelle _ -?” he exclaims, but a hand is hastily clamped to his mouth as Allura pulls them both out of view once more. 

_ “Shush  _ you  _ idiot, _ ” she hisses, glancing back to ensure they weren’t seen. “She might hear you!”

And Lance can do nothing but gape down at Allura. He thinks he might be going into shock, or else his brain is overloading with this carton of new information. He can’t even begin to feel relieved about her not liking Shiro because the only thought circling his brain is that Allura is female, and Romelle is female...and….and-

_ Allura likes a girl? She...is that allowed?! _

And then Allura is exhaling frustratedly through her nose, and removes her hand from his mouth.

“So, you see, I like someone. That’s why I can’t accept.”

Her words pass through one ear and out the other: nothing sticking as his eyes begin to burn from lack of blinking. 

He can’t believe it. Or maybe he was just taught not to. It’s been ingrained in him since he was young that boys should like girls and girls should like boys. That was all. That was it. 

Ever since he was little, that was the way. 

He would come home from kindergarten with a new friend and his family would ask if he liked her. And when he said yes they would tease him and ask when they were getting married. 

That was the normal. That was the natural. And soon he began to stop mentioning any friends of his that were female to avoid the embarrassment of being teased. 

Girls were for liking. Boys were for befriending. It wasn’t the other way around. And it sure as hell wasn’t  _ both. _

At least...that’s what he used to think. Up until like, a few days ago really. Allura’s confession is like the final nail on his coffin.

Only it’s not being hammered down: sealing him in. It’s being pulled out. It’s breaking him free. He breathes in and the air feels fresher. He blinks and the world seems brighter! 

He laughs, and a weight he’d spent his life pretending wasn’t there is lifted from his shoulders, allowing him a proper breath in what feels like years. 

“You like girls,” he finds himself saying, and Allura raises a brow as an expression of annoyance crosses her face.

“Ugh, please don’t tell me you’re one of those-”

“No!” Lance rushes, and the smile that erupts on his face is genuine. He’s….happy. But he’s not entirely sure why. The person he’s been crushing on since the beginning of the year just told him she bats for the other team: that no matter what he does she won’t like him in that way because she just  _ won’t.  _ And he’s totally okay with that. In fact he’s really  _ proud _ right now. And he tells Allura so. “I think it’s cool. Like...I think you might be my hero.”

Allura’s face changes from skepticism to shock in the span of a blink, but there must be something in Lance’s voice that tells her he’s serious. She smiles back, and the relief in her eyes is evident.

“Thanks,” she mumbles, cheeks flushing as she glances back at Romelle. “I...I mean I don’t really keep it a secret. All my friends know. Matt, Shiro, Adam, but-I mean those guys understand so…” she trails off, leaving Lance to wonder at her words. And then she stares up at his face, expression thoughtful as she hums quietly to herself. “I don’t know why I told you though.”

Lance’s laugh is humourless and self-aware as he provides her with the answer.

“Because I’m just another dumb guy who wouldn’t have taken ‘no’ for an answer.”

“No you’re not Lance,” Allura disagrees without so much as a second for thought, and the surety in her voice is comforting. “You’re not like Lotor or Rolo or any of those pea-brained morons. You would have been a gentleman about it had I just told you I wasn’t interested.”

He isn’t sure what to say to that. Her words are humbling, but he can’t bring himself to put much weight into them. The image of Keith standing outside his house surfaces, and the word ‘gentleman’ is scratched from Lance’s vocabulary as he recalls the sound of his door slamming in the face of someone so sincere.

“But still…” Allura goes on, distracting him from his thoughts as she squints up at him, searching for something. “I think I told you because I just felt like you would get it. Something about you makes me think you understand.”

“I’m not gay,” Lance rushes to inform, and Allura looks mildly taken-aback by his abrupt outburst. 

“I...didn’t say you are,” she drawls, slightly amused, and then pats his shoulder gently. “But there would be nothing wrong if you were.”

“I like girls,” he goes on, unsure as to why. Even as he says it he’d reminded of the way his heart reacted upon seeing Keith dressed up at his doorstep: smile soft and cheeks slightly flushed. 

_ I like girls,  _ he mentally repeats, but it sounds forced, like he’s in denial. 

Allura chuckles, rolling her eyes as she does. 

“Don’t we all,” she teases, and Lance doesn’t fully appreciate the extent of the joke. “But no one is saying we have to like one gender exclusively. At least, they shouldn’t be.”

“But I already like-” 

“Who says you can only like one?” Allura cuts him off, and Lance shuts his mouth as her words engrain themselves to his brain.

_ Who says you can only like one? _

Well….technically no one told him that. Not exclusively. It was just something he’d come to know. The talk with his parents, shows on TV, books he’d read….they never really explored anything beyond the normal. 

But he hesitates to even call it that now. Liking the opposite gender isn’t normal. And liking someone from the same sex isn’t  _ not _ normal.

“It’s all just chemicals anyway,” Allura goes on, as if reading his thoughts. “In the end we like someone for who they are, not what they are.” 

“Why are you telling me this?” Lance whispers, and Allura shrugs.

“I don’t know. I just have a feeling that it’s something you needed to hear.”

She’s right, but he won’t admit that yet. He’s still trying to process it all. His entire perspective on things was just obliterated, and the recovery is slow. 

But he feels better, oddly enough, knowing this.  _ Hearing _ the words from Allura. 

_ It’s okay _ , a voice soothes in the back of his mind.  _ It’s okay.  _

And it is...he thinks. Or at least it will be.

First he has to find a way apologize to Keith. 

  
  


* * *

It takes a good half week to get his mind wrapped around things. 

After his chat with Allura, Lance ended up spending most of his Monday on Google, searching up different sexuality terms and getting familiar with all this new territory. 

It got him in trouble with three different teachers, until finally Coran took his phone away. 

Not that that helped much. He spent the remainder of class thinking about how he could best make things right with Keith.

He was anxious at first about running into him. But apparently Keith took the day off or something, because he was M.I.A for all their shared classes and didn’t make an appearance at lunch. 

Lance was  _ almost _ relieved. He’s wasn’t sure how he would have reacted upon seeing Keith’s face so soon, especially now that he had all these new thoughts running circles in his head telling him it’s perfectly okay to have these types of feelings. 

And secondly, well. He was sort of expecting to get punched in the face. 

But Keith didn’t show on Monday, so Lance spent his time planning.

And he came up with nothing solid, which made Tuesday equally as unproductive study-wise. But Keith wasn’t there on Tuesday either. 

It’s mid-morning on Wednesday now, and Lance is running through the list he’s made of potential apologies in his head. Because Keith is late, and Lance is beginning to wonder if he’ll ever show up again. 

But he can’t think like that yet. He goes through his list, and tries to figure something out.

Firstly, he just goes up to him and says sorry.

But Lance’s doesn’t think he can do that. Or well, he  _ can, _ technically, but he’s not sure it’s the proper course of action. The best possible outcome to that scenario is Keith smiling and forgiving him. The worst case is a black eye. 

At this point Lance isn’t sure which he’d be better equipped to handle. 

Second. He could ask someone for his number and just...give him a call? Or send a quick text?

Two drawbacks to that one: first, he’d have to talk to one of Keith’s friends, and Lance isn’t even sure the guy  _ has _ any, which makes him feel even  _ worse _ than he already does. And second, texting someone an apology is cheap. Lance was raised better than that. 

So he skips to the third option, which is to find out where Keith lives and pay him a visit. 

It’s last on the list because it’s Lance’s least favourite. Going to Keith’s  _ house?!  _ How can he bring himself to do that?! 

But at this point, what with Keith skipping classes and adding to the guilt that’s weighing heavy in Lance’s gut, he’s not left with many other choices. 

_ No. I’ll wait. First option is best. I just have to be patient- _

“Lance!”

He jolts in his seat, flinging his pencil off the desk in the process, and Allura bends to pick it up as she approaches.

“H-hey-” he stumbles, both in residual shock from having been ripped from his thoughts and in surprise because, hey. This is Allura. She’s talking to him.  _ Him. _ And yeah, Lance knows about her crush and that he’s not the one for her, and he’s accepted that. But that doesn’t mean he still doesn’t harbour some left-over feelings cultivated from a year’s worth of pining. His life is a bit of a mess right now, but he’s managing. One step at a time. “What’s up?”

Allura hands him his pencil and steals a chair from the neighbouring desk. They have about ten minutes before class starts, but Lance is still curious as to why she’s here so suddenly, and why she looks ready to gossip.

“How are you?” she asks, and it takes him a moment to process and respond.

“I’m...uh, good, I guess. Why?”

Allura snorts, ducking her head as someone glances over. 

“What do you mean ‘why’? Who even asks that?”

Lance feels his face warm, but shrugs it off. 

“I don’t know, it’s just...you’ve never  _ actively _ spoken to me before so…”

“Ah, well,” Allura has the decency to look bashful, but it doesn’t last long. She looks around the class once, before leaning in close to whisper. “I need your help with something.” 

“Oh-kaayyy…” Lance drawls, raising both brows as he does. Because Allura is acting weird. Or...maybe she’s always like this? And he just never noticed because he was too busy viewing her through rose-coloured goggles. 

“You’re friends with Romelle, right?” 

And  _ ooohh.  _ Lance clues in right away. He nods, but only after shooting Allura a knowing grin.

“Ah, so you come seeking my advice? You must have heard about my prowess with the ladies-”

“No,” Allura deadpans, and Lance falls back down to Earth. 

“Then what? Can’t someone else help?”

“You don’t want to?” she asks, startled, as if the idea of someone not wanting to come to her aid never crossed her mind. But Lance quickly reassures her that that’s not the case.

“No, I can, it’s just...what about your friends? Wouldn’t they know better?”

He’s mostly referring to Allura’s posy of girls that she hangs out with, seeing as most of them are in relationships already. But when Allura responds, she makes no mention of any of them. 

“Pfft, please. Matt’s hopeless with advice and Shiro asked Adam out in the middle of Taco Bell, so he’s the  _ last _ person I want to help.”

“Wait...what?” Lance tries, latching onto the threads of interesting conversation Allura just teased him with. She did mention Shiro, right? And Adam?! And...yeah, she said asking out. 

_ Are those two a thing?! For how long?!  _

But Allura doesn’t seem to notice his reaction to her words, and goes on unhindered.

“Plus, even if I were to sink that low, Shiro’s at home taking care of his brother. Apparently he’s sick or something so...that leaves you.”

_ “‘Leaves’ _ me?” Lance repeats, leaning back in his seat as he folds his arms over his chest. “Wow. I feel so important.” 

Allura rolls her eyes, blowing a strand of hair from her face.

“Take it as a compliment. I feel like you get it, and I’m a good judge with this kinda thing. Besides,” she glances around the room again, winking as she turns back his way. “You’re the only one of my friends who has class with her.”

“There it is,” Lance mumbles, but he can’t help the smile that comes to his lips. Allura just called him one of her friends. Hell yeah. “So what do you need?”

Allura reaches into her pocket, withdrawing a piece of paper. 

“Your note asking to fight me gave me an idea.”

“It wasn’t meant for-ah, nevermind,” Lance huffs. Allura isn’t listening anyway. 

“So I wanted to ask if you could give this to Romelle for me. Or leave it in her desk. Somewhere she’ll find it before the end of school.”

Lance reaches out his hand, ready to take the note as Allura stares down at it fondly.

“I can do that, sure. But I get to read what’s on it first.”

He’d meant it as a joke, but Allura’s face turns a deep scarlet: eyes growing wide as she stares up at him in shock.

“You  _ can’t-!” _

“Woah,” he chuckles, and she hides her face in her hands as people turn to stare at the sudden outburst. Lance leans forward, keeping his voice low to salvage the privacy of their conversation. “I mean, I  _ wasn’t  _ going to, but now I’m like, super curious.”

“This was a mistake,” she whines, and Lance laughs again at her reaction. 

“Hey, I’m only teasing. I promise I won’t read it. I’ll put it somewhere she’ll find right away, okay?”

Allura watches him for a moment, as if debating internally if he’ll be true to his word, and then nods.

“Okay. I’m trusting you. But just in case-” she takes her note and refolds it, bending the corners and edges in a complex pattern that Lance can’t hope to repeat. When she’s done she hands him back the note, now neatly presented as an origami star. 

“You know,” Lance muses as he takes it, “I think you need to re-evaluate your definition of ‘trust’.” 

Allura laughs, but it fades into a serious expression that sends a chill down his spine.

“I’m counting on you. And I’ll owe you one, okay? If this works I’ll buy you food or something.”

“Deal,” Lance agrees instantly, and Allura waves as she heads towards the exit. Lance watches her go, and almost bursts out laughing when he sees Romelle enter the room at the same time. The two nearly collide, and Allura’s face turns a hilarious shade of red as she hurriedly apologizes and tries to get out of Romelle’s way.

Only, they end up doing that awkward thing where one person shimmies one way, and the other person mirrors them in an attempt to move as well. 

It’s like watching a strange bird dance, and Lance is dying trying to keep his laughter contained. 

Finally they manage to move, and Allura shoots daggers his way as her eyes come into contact with his.

Lance simply winks, and Allura leaves without a second glance. So Lance’s eyes move over to Romelle, who looks just as awkward about the whole encounter as Allura did. 

Only, Romelle stares back at the doorway as she takes her seat, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she smiles to herself.

Lance watches, and twiddles the folded note between his fingers. 

_ So she likes her as well…. _

_ I’m happy for them. All I gotta do now is sneak this in Romelle’s bag and- _

But he doesn’t complete the thought. 

Because it hits him: the perfect way to apologize to Keith.

The same way this all started in the first place. He stares down at the origami star in his hands, brain whirling as it fills with determination and hope. This will work. It’s gotta. 

He takes out a sheet of paper and rips it neatly in half. And then he writes. 

And writes. 

And when he’s sure it’s perfect he signs his name, and tries to draw that same little hippo with the rose in its mouth. 

And when class starts he finds himself experiencing a strange sense of déja vu.

He has two notes in his desk, and one of them is for Keith. 

* * *

It’s after lunch and Lance is feeling pretty good. 

He’s managed to sneak Allura’s note to Romelle, placing it within some poetry book that Lance figures hosts the perfect theme given what he expects to be written within the folded star. 

He is, of course, assuming that the contents of the note are indeed a confession, but he was true to his word and didn’t peek. Anyway, he sort of gets an idea of what was in it when he watches Romelle find the star and grow red in the face as her eyes scan over it. 

He just barely misses catching her gaze as it darts around the room, and smiles to himself when he sees the girl quickly stash the note in her pocket, biting back a grin as her ears remain pink. 

It’s adorable, and Lance can’t help but wonder if Keith’s reaction will be the same. 

Because he’s managed to stash  _ that _ note as well, though Keith’s desk offered no romantic setting for him to hide it. It’s currently folded beneath an eraser, sitting and waiting to be read.

He figures he might skip tomorrow, at least in the morning, to avoid having to be there when Keith reads it. The contents are embarrassing, and if Keith’s face turns as red as Romelle’s just did then...wow. Lance may be in trouble. 

Regardless, the bell summons them back to class in the afternoon, and Lance is feeling good.

He’s in the midst of texting Hunk to hang out later when he hears Coran enter the room, and hastily stashes his phone so it won’t be confiscated. 

But when he looks up, fully expecting to see their physics teacher striding into the room, he’s instead met by a pair of dark eyes that bore into his skull and drain the confidence he’d been feeling mere moments before. 

_ Keith- _

Lance jolts upright in his seat, but averts his gaze, finding himself unable to hold it. 

_ Damn...he’s so intense! Was he always like this?! _

Lance isn’t sure, but he can see Keith sigh in his periphery, before making his way to his desk. 

And then that giddiness is back, and Lance is biting his tongue trying to keep from smiling as he watches Keith sit, sort through his things and then-

_ Yes! There! _

Lance turns his head an inch to the side, to better watch Keith’s reaction as he slowly unfolds the note.

And then he’s reading it.

And Lance is reading it along with him because he knows what he wrote and he can sort of pace the length of time it will take for Keith to finish reading and then turn to him with that same soft smile he remembers from the weekend.

Any second now.

Okay...maybe Keith is a slow reader.

Hmm.

Lance finds himself frowning as he shifts his gaze to land more solidly on Keith, waiting now, to see any sort of reaction. Because he should be done now. It wasn’t  _ that _ long a note. 

But there’s no blush. No pink ears. No face hid in hands.

It’s nothing like Romelle. In fact, it couldn’t be farther from.

And Lance watches in growing horror as Keith’s jaw clenches, bag thrown back over his shoulder as he abruptly stands from his desk.

The class doesn’t take notice, but Lance does. And Lance can do nothing but gape in shock as Keith crumples the note in his fist, not even bothering to spare him a glance before storming from the room.

_ What the- _

And then Lance is moving, chasing after him.

He’s not sure why, but he doesn’t fight it. He’s baffled by this response. His note had been  _ kind! _ It had explained where he went wrong and apologized and-

So why is Keith running?! 

“Hey! Wait!” he calls once out in the hall, and Keith pauses. He doesn’t turn though, and his shoulders tense as Lance halts. “Keith-”

“Quit messing with me Lance,” he hears echo down the corridor. “It’s not fucking funny.”

And…. _ what?!!! _

Lance shakes his head, blinking rapidly as he tries to make sense of this.

“I-” he begins, and takes a step forward. “I’m not-”

“Then explain  _ this!” _ Keith shouts, turning and tossing Lance’s now crumpled note back at him. It lands near his feet, and Lance frowns down at his as his mouth opens and closes: no words coming out. 

Keith takes his stunned silence as some sort of confirmation to whatever he’d been thinking, and scowls as he clenches his fists. 

“Leave me alone,” he hisses, but it’s broken. It fades at the end: cuts short as his voice falters and his lower lip begins to tremble. And Lance can do nothing but stare as Keith turns and storms away, watching in utter perplexity as he tries to decipher where he went wrong. 

But it’s hard to focus on anything, what with the way his chest is burning. It’s like his heart has forgotten how to pump, and his lungs are screaming as he neglects to inhale. 

_ What the fuck just happened?!  _ Is all he can think.

“Mr. McClain,” a voice behind him startles him into jumping, and Lance whirls to see Coran standing outside their class. “Are you joining us today by any chance?”

Lance stares mutely, and then finally snaps out of it. He nods, and breathes, and tries not to feel the strange ache behind his ribs. 

“Good,” Coran says in response, and then points to the floor. “But please don’t litter.”

Lance pauses, and glances back at the note he’d written, now a crumpled ball of paper looking like trash on the ground. He wants to leave it there, because picking it up seems poisonous. Toxic: like it might hurt him the same way it seemed to hurt Keith. But he’s sure he’d written everything in it well. So why did Keith-

“Mr. McClain?” Coran prods, and Lance shakes his head.

“Sorry, yeah.” 

He bends, and tucks the note in his pocket, wondering if he’d made some mistake. 

He turns to stare down the hall Keith vanished from, part of him hoping to see the guy return, and the other part terrified of just that. 

But Keith doesn’t come back, and Lance doesn’t absorb anything from class.

It’s the end of the day now, and Lance still has his note in his pocket, feeling like a weight he’s forced to carry. 

_ What went wrong...why... _

_ Did I do something? I’m not…. _

But none of his thoughts can connect. No matter how hard he tries he can’t figure out Keith’s reaction.

_ Is is because he’s a guy? Does he find notes weird?  _

_ But he liked the first one...and he gave me one back so- _

His head is beginning to hurt, and then he hears a familiar voice across the way.

It’s Allura, and she’s with Romelle. The two are talking by that old oak, both blushing and laughing and...Allura takes Romelle’s hand in her own, and brings it to her mouth for a quick kiss.

Lance thinks he should avert his gaze, but he can’t. It’s cute, but it makes the pain in his chest worse. So he keeps watching, thinking he deserves to feel it.

The two exchange a few more words, and then Romelle waves as she leaves, heading towards a car waiting out front. Lance watches them, and when Romelle drives off he watches Allura continue to stare at the place she’d been: grin goofy and fond. 

And now there’s this weird feeling of jealousy mixing with everything else in Lance’s head that makes him want to curl up in a ball and merge with the dirt. Not because he’s envious of Allura not being with him, but rather because he’d sort of been hoping for something like that himself. He’s jealous of Romelle’s reaction, the outcome of their note, and kind of furious with the one he’d gotten instead. 

_ Why was he so mad? _

Allura watches for a moment longer, and then turns back towards the school. Only, Lance isn’t quick enough to avert his gaze, and her eyes land on him. She beams, and runs over to where he’s currently sitting in his puddle of self-loathing.

“Lance! It worked! I-” she breaks off, noticing something in his expression that has her crouching by his side in concern. “Is something wrong?”

Lance doesn’t want to say. Because if he does then he’s admitting something to someone that he’d only recently allowed himself to accept.

That he likes someone. 

And it’s someone he didn’t think he could like. Because he’s supposed to like girls.

_ But that’s changed now. I know more. I...I can like whoever I want and it’s okay. _

Or it should be anyway, but Lance can’t bring himself to feel that way. Because if it was truly okay then why did Keith react the way he did? Was he ashamed? Disgusted? 

Lance isn’t sure, and all at once he finds himself crying.

“Lance!” Allura exclaims, moving closer to his side as she watches the tears stream down his cheeks. “What happened?!”

_ It’s okay... _ he thinks.  _ It’s okay. _

But he doesn’t say those words. Instead, when he opens his mouth, he hears himself telling her the truth.

The notes, the mix-up, the visitor at his doorstep.

He tells her about this guy he thinks he might like, the confusion of it all, the reactions he hadn’t expected, and Allura sits, and listens to it all.

And when he’s done there’s a moment of absolute silence in which Lance sobers enough to feel a tinge of regret. He shouldn’t have said so much. He should have kept his mouth shut and his thoughts to himself. But then Allura’s hand moves to rest on his shoulder, and when he looks over at her she’s smiling. 

And it’s a kind smile. It’s an understanding smile. She gets it, and she’s not judging. 

He takes a shaky breath, finding his lungs are able to fill just a little bit easier now. 

“Lance,” she murmurs, hand warm over his arm. “It’s really brave of you to say this. To admit it to yourself, and to me. I’m proud of you.”

He wants to smile, but he can’t. Not yet. The note is still heavy in his pocket.

“Maybe, but…” he sniffs, wiping his cheeks as he tilts his head up to the sky. “I think I messed it all up. Again.”

“How so?” 

And instead of explaining it to her, Lance takes the note from his pocket, and hands it over without a word. She reads the first line, and then gasps.

“Wait,  _ Keith?!  _ That’s the guy?!”

Lance nods, too emotionally drained to think much of her reaction. 

“Like,  _ Keith  _ Keith? Shiro’s little brother?”

“Huh?” Lance manages, new details only adding to the headache. “Keith has a brother?”

Allura nods, and then sighs deeply.

“This makes a bit more sense then. You must be  _ that _ guy…”

“What?” 

But Allura shakes her head, staring down at the note in her hands. She doesn’t appear to be reading it though, instead looking as if deep in thought.

“Keith is pissed at you right now,” she says after a moment, and Lance grunts in agreement.

“Yeah I  _ know. _ Hence the note.” He gestures to it, but Allura doesn’t seem to notice.

“I mean, I sort of had a general idea because Shiro filled us in a bit, but to know it was  _ you-” _

“What are you talking about?” Lance interrupts, impatience growing with the throb in his temples. 

Allura takes a moment before responding, almost as if wondering how to best phrase her next words. 

“Keith used to be bullied a lot as a kid,” she begins, and Lance pales as he listens to the rest of her explanation. “He lost his parents at a young age, and was adopted by Shiro’s family when he was about six or so. But he was always teased and got into a lot of fights because of it. And when he came out it only got worse. Kids are ruthless, and Keith’s struggled a lot. It’s part of the reason he transferred here in the first place.”

Lance is quick to register Allura’s words, but he takes his time processing them. He always knew that Keith was a bit of a scrapper. He’d heard the rumours, and he’d experienced that temper first hand back when Keith first came to their school. 

And that’s sort of how their rivalry began. Or, at least, that’s how Lance remembers it. Now that he’s reflecting he thinks maybe there was some other cause behind it all. 

Whatever the case, Lance had no idea Keith’s quick-temper was the result of years of bullying. It’s a tragic backstory, and Lance begins to wonder about his role in it all. 

_ Am I just another one of those kids? I mean, I wouldn’t ever tease him for being...I didn’t make fun of him for that! We were always just fighting over little things. And...and being jerks to one another because- _

_ Because… _

But Lance can’t think of the reason. For so long he’d been convinced he didn’t like Keith. He’d made up excuses, imagined this entire rivalry between them…

But what if the real reason he hadn’t like Keith was because, from the very beginning, he  _ had? _

What if he’d been passing his true emotions off as hatred because he’d been too scared to accept them for what they really were? 

How long had he spent doing that? How long had his mind been biased and unwillingly to change? And how long had he been focusing that confusion on Keith, not knowing his actions were hurting the guy, making it worse for him...probably reminding him of the bullies that used to tease him for who he was even though that was never Lance’s intent? How long?

How long...

_ Jesus, poor Keith. I never knew- _

“And with Shiro gone these past few days, I can kinda guessed that Keith wasn’t really sick,” Allura goes on, oblivious to Lance’s thoughts. “If I had known it was  _ you _ who was the cause behind it all…” she trails off, and Lance glances over in worry.

“What…?” he tries, and Allura smirks.

“Well let’s just say you wouldn’t have weasled your way out of our fight.” 

Lance gulps, and stares down at his hands in shame. Allura must have been expecting a different reaction though, as the smile fades from her face.

“But Lance, I know you didn’t mean it. I can...kinda understand what you went through. What you’re  _ going _ through. And I don’t blame you.”

“You don’t?” he whispers, and Allura shakes her head.

“No. But that doesn’t mean Keith won’t. To him, the whole note thing might just be another elaborate bullying scheme.”

“But I didn’t-”

“I know,” Allura soothes. “But try to put yourself in his shoes. The guy you like, or girl, or whatever, suddenly passes you a note asking you out, and you show up at their doorstep all excited and when they open the door, they don’t say anything. They just slam it in your face and leave. Imagine how he must have felt.”

Lance can’t. It’s too awful to fathom. But oddly enough the words he ends up focusing on are:

“Wait, Keith likes me?”

Allura shrugs.

“I mean, I knew he liked  _ someone _ , because Shiro would always complain about how hopeless his brother was. About how he would get himself in trouble arguing with this guy just to spend time with him. That sort of thing. And I think I can connect the dots enough now to know it was you.”

Lance’s mouth falls open, but no words come out. It’s starting to make sense, but Lance isn’t so sure he likes the image of himself emerging from the puzzle pieces. 

“But anyways,” Allura huffs, staring down at the note in her hands for the first time since reading Keith’s name. “At least you’re trying to apologize. Let’s see what got him so upset…”

Her eyes dance over the page, and Lance watches with growing anticipation. But it quickly fades to anxiety as Allura groans loudly, resting her head in her hands as she shakes it back and forth. 

“Oh Lance. God.” 

“W-what did I do wrong-”

She lifts her head just enough to stare back at him: lids heavy over her eyes in an expression of disbelief. 

“You have no idea how this letter sounds, do you.”

It’s not a question, so Lance doesn’t answer. There’s no need, since Allura takes it upon herself to read it aloud. 

She clears her throat, and begins:

_ “‘Dear Keith, I’m sorry about what happened.’  _ Vague. Love it.” She interjects sarcastically, then continues.  _ “‘But I honestly didn’t expect you to show up.’” _ Her eyes slowly travel up to his, incredulous. 

“What! It’s the truth!” 

“It makes it sound like you  _ meant _ to give him that note as a joke.”

“But I explained that I didn’t!” 

She rolls her eyes with a sigh, and goes on.

_ “‘The whole thing was kind of a mix up and the note you got was meant for someone else.’” _

“See?” he points out, and she pauses again, apparently struggling. Lance bites the nail of his thumb as he waits. 

_ “‘I feel bad about it but I’ve come to realize some things since then, so if you want you can try again.’  _ God, Lance, why are you like this.”  __

“I told him it was okay!” he argues, but Allura doesn’t seem convinced.

“No, you told him if he wants he can show up at your door again and ask  _ you _ out. You made no mention of it being ‘okay’ at all!” 

“But I-I thought it was-”

Allura exhales, pinching the bridge of her nose as she does.

“Okay, anyway. I can see why he reacted the way he did. This note sucks.”

“Hey-”

“And I know what you were trying to get at, but honestly? You need help.”

Lance pouts, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Mean. I didn’t think it was that bad-”

“Yeah well, it is. But because you helped me, I’ll return the favour.”

Lance peeks over at her, raising a brow.

“What do you mean?”

“I  _ mean _ ,” Allura drawls, crumpling the note in her hands and tossing it in the trash can nearby. “I’ll help you with the notes.”

Lance hesitates in responding, searching Allura’s face.

“But why?” he finally asks. “You made it seem like I messed it up too much.”

“Your heart’s in the right place,” she explains, “but your execution is flawed. I genuinely think you like Keith. And I know for a fact that he likes you back. Or, well, he  _ did _ , I’m not so sure now-”

“Not helping,” Lance cuts her off, and she huffs out a laugh.

“Either way, I think you can do this. I think you owe it to Keith, and yourself. So let’s try.”

“But is it worth it?” Lance hears himself say. He stares down at his hands, not knowing how to feel. Not knowing if he  _ should.  _ If he  _ deserves _ to. “Do you really think I have a chance after everything I’ve done?”

Allura takes a minute to respond, but when she does it sounds genuine. Sincere. She speaks the truth, and it fills Lance with an odd optimism.

“I’m not sure about a chance, since that’s up to Keith. But I do think it’s worth it. If it’s for love it’s always worth it.”

“It’s not lo-” Lance hurries to say, but he chokes on the last word and his face burns uncomfortably. “It’s not... _ that. _ I just think he has a nice smile and I want to see him do it again. I feel bad for taking it away.”

Allura hums knowingly, but doesn’t tease him further.

“Well, I think that’s reason enough to make it worth it, don’t you?”

Lance nods: tongue heavy in his mouth.

But he agrees with Allura. Even if Keith decides he wants nothing to do with him in the end, Lance wants to be able to say he at least tried. That he made an effort to fix things. 

He wants to see Keith smile again. 

“Let’s do it,” he agrees, and Allura grins.

“Cool. But on one condition.”

He glances over at her as they stand.

“Yeah?”

“I do the artwork. That thing you drew was an abomination.”

“Hey-” Lance splutters, ears going red in embarrassment. “It was a hippo!”

“Didn’t look like one,” Allura jests, walking back towards the school. “I thought it was some alien space mouse.”

“It was a hippo,” Lance grumbles to himself, following after, and Allura laughs as she waits for him to catch up.

“Whatever it was, it will not be making another appearance, got it?”

Lance harmumphs, but agrees. 

“Fine. Deal.”

“Good,” Allura beams, pushing him in the direction of the school. “Then let’s get to work.”

* * *

The plan is easy enough: Lance tells Allura what he wants to say, she edits it, he writes it down, and presto. New note.

He hates to admit it - because he’s still holding firm that his last note wasn’t as bad as Allura made it seem - but she’s better at the whole ‘word’ thing. She explains how his sentences can get twisted in someone's mind, and how stating something simply can be both elegant and informative. 

Regardless, he reads it over for a fifth time just be sure, and then makes his way to the lockers.

“You sure about this?” he asks, nervous despite only himself and Allura occupying the hall. “What if it gets worse?”

“It won’t. And if it does then I’ll warn you now: I’ll be taking Keith’s side.”

“Wha- _ dude!”  _ Lance whines, and Allura shrugs. 

“I’ve known him longer! Plus Shiro would be on his team. But I promise I won’t throw any punches if it comes down to it, since you helped me with Romelle.”

Lance swallows thickly, staring at Allura in hesitant horror. He’s not sure if he fully believes her, but at this point he’s not about to ask.

“Fine. I guess that’s fair.”

She winks, and points in the direction he should go.

“You know which locker is his, right?”

Lance nods, and then pauses, turning back with a frown.

“But only because I needed to know his weak point should it come down-ah, you know what, forget it,” he huffs, watching as Allura stifles a laugh. 

“Just go,” she urges, and he does. Keith’s locker is just like all the others, but Lance is confident he has the right one. Number 313, right next to Nyma and across from Hunk. That’s really the only reason he knows it. Not because he was like,  _ watching _ , or anything.

_ Oh wait...maybe it’s okay to admit that now? I was watching. Yeah. Own it. _

He smiles, though it doesn’t stop the flush from creeping up his neck. 

But when he stops in front of Keith’s locker he realizes he doesn’t know the combination. For one he’s not that creepy, and for two he rarely locks his own lock to begin with: merely rests it so it looks like it’s closed.

Unfortunately Keith doesn’t employ the same tactic, so Lance is left standing in front of a beige locker holding a note that he has no idea how to-

“Slip it through the cracks,” Allura supplies suddenly, and Lance wonders if she really  _ can _ read minds.

“I was  _ gonna, _ geez,” he lies, and manages to squeeze his note through the top of the locker, satisfied when he hears it drop down to the shelf inside. 

_ Good, _ he thinks, then shoots a thumbs up at Allura.

She sends one back, gesturing for him to come closer.

“Okay, so tomorrow morning I’ll be busy helping one of the teachers so just let me know how it goes.”

“Wha- _ alone?!” _ Lance squeaks, not in the least bit ashamed. Because Allura can’t just ditch him like this! Not when the note has already been placed! “I can’t do this  _ alone!  _ What if he reacts badly again! I need you to tell me what to do-”

“It’ll be fine,” Allura reassures, but something on Lance’s face must clue her in to how genuine his fears are, as she provides a different plan. “Okay, then how about this: tomorrow morning, wait until Keith comes in, then hide somewhere he won’t be able to see you right away. Watch him read the note, and then see how he reacts. If it’s good, then go out and say hi. If it’s bad, then run.”

“Great,” Lance deadpans. “So your advice is to play chicken and hope for the best?”

Allura ponders for a moment, then nods. 

“Fantastic, thanks.”

“But I’m sure it’ll be great,” Allura goes on. “I mean, I helped you write it so…” 

“So if it goes badly I’m blaming you,” Lance finishes, and she sticks out her tongue. 

“I already told you whose side I’m taking, so you can blame whoever you want. Anyway, I gotta run, so let me know tomorrow how it goes!” She waves and begins walking away, but turns back just before the corner, using her hands to amplify her voice as she yells: “I’m rooting for you!” 

Lance flushes, and glances around to ensure he’s still the only one in the hall lest he succumb to embarrassment. But he’s grateful to Allura. Grateful and slightly scared of her. She’s completely different from how he imagined her to be, and he finds himself smiling at as he mentally compares liking her and knowing her. 

_ Crazy how it goes, _ he thinks, and then remembers how wrong he’d been about Keith.  _ Yeesh. I need to stop relying on my first impressions of people.  _

And speaking of Keith, Lance glances back at his locker, wondering what reaction tomorrow will yield. 

He’s hoping it’s better than todays.  _ Anything _ would be better than todays.

But then again, there’s also a possibility that it’ll be worse. But he doesn’t linger on that. He needs to stay positive. 

_ This time it’ll work. This time Keith will see that I’m being honest and that I’m sorry. And this time I made sure to clarify that it was  _ me _ asking him out, and not waiting for him to try again. _

He bites his lower lip, foot tapping against the floor in nervous energy, and nods. 

Right. He can do this. It’ll be great. 

He leaves for home, and tries to catch up on the homework from class. 

* * *

He doesn’t sleep much that night, and come morning the bags beneath his eyes are deplorable.

But where he would usually skip class to catch up on rest, today he makes it to school earlier than needed, and spends the majority of his time pacing in a classroom a few rows down from Keith’s locker. 

The hallway fills, and Lance waits, until finally he sees that familiar mullet bob it’s way through the crowd.

He ducks down despite not having been seen, and peeks up just enough to stare out the window of the classroom down the hallway, watching Keith as he puts in his combination.

The lock opens. The door swings wide.

Keith places his bag on the hook. Checks his phone. Reaches up to grab his books and-

Bam. Note spotted.

Lance holds his breath, and ducks back down just in time as Keith’s head swivels around his way.

_ Thank god I took Allura’s advice and hid. Fuck...I would have died had he spotted me before reading it. _

But he’s grinning as he pops his head back up, waiting to see the reaction.

Only...there isn’t one.

Because Keith stares down at the note in his hand and promptly throws it out. Not even bothering to open it, much less  _ read _ it. 

And Lance, well....his grin fades, and he sinks down to the ground as Keith closes his locker and leaves.

_ No...no no...why didn’t he read it?! _

He’s not sure how he should feel. By all rights he’s entitled to a little misery, maybe some self-pity. There’s guilt, but that’s been there for a while now. But what Lance ends up settling on is determination. 

If Keith doesn’t want to read his notes, fine. Lance will leave more. He won’t let it end like this.

So he pulls out his book and tears off a blank sheet. And on the paper he writes:

**_Since you didn’t read my first note, I’ll be more direct. I think I like you, and I’m sorry for how I acted._ **

He folds it up, uncaring about how desperate his words may sound, and pockets it: rushing to class just before the bell sounds. And he tries to pay attention - he really does - but it proves difficult. All he can think about is Keith.

It’s infuriating. Maddening. But he can’t get that stupid smile out of his head, and when it comes time for their first shared class, Lance makes sure to hide the new note in a more obvious place.

He leaves it on Keith’s chair, and holds his breath as the boy walks in.

Their eyes don’t meet, though not for lack of trying on Lance’s part. He doesn’t take his gaze off that mullet, but Keith seems intent on ignoring him, a fact further proven by the way he notices the note and proceeds to sit on it. 

Which...geez.  _ Better than throwing it out I guess.  _

Still, class starts, Keith ignores him, and the note remains unread.

So Lance tries again.

**_Dear Keith. Kinda rude, placing your butt on my beautiful note. But I’ll forgive you if you let me apologize._ **

The paper is folded, edges crisp and sharp, and placed on top of Keith’s desk in their next class.

Keith walks in, sees it, and covers it with his books.

Lance prevents himself from standing up and shouting, but only just barely. Because  _ really Keith?! Are you really gonna pretend to not see my notes?! _

Not that Lance entirely blames him, though he sure as hell tries. 

The end of the day is fast approaching, and Lance could care less about his free block because it means he has no excuse to see Keith and leave him another message. But he can’t give up. Not yet.

Still, his hopes are sinking, and when the lunch bell rings he sprints from the classroom towards the cafeteria, eager to intercept Allura before she can sit down with her group of friends.

She’ll know what to do. She’ll know what to say.

He spots her, and grabs hold of her arm to pull her back into the hall, ignoring the odd stares he gets from onlookers.

“Lance-”

“It’s not working,” he states, straight to the point. Allura frowns, and leans against the wall with a groan.

“Well, I guess this means I have to fight you now-”

“What?” Lance cuts in, waving his hands in front of himself. “No. I don't mean he got  _ mad _ . I mean he didn’t even _ read  _ it.”

“He...didn’t?”

“No,” Lance sighs, joining Allura against the wall as he squeezes his eyes shut. “He just... _ threw _ it out.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah,” Lance agrees, tilting his head to stare over at her. “And so I wrote another one, and left it on his chair, and then  _ another _ one that I put on his desk. But the same thing. He’s ignoring me.” He steps forward, pivoting on his heel to face Allura full on. “So what do I do?”

She doesn’t speak for a long while, and then exhales slowly as she considers.

“I mean...if he’s not reading the notes then I’m not sure what else there is. You could try talking to him instead-”

“No,” Lance interrupts almost immediately, and then huffs as he takes a step backward. “It’s just...I’m not sure what I’d say to him. The notes are easy because I get to think about what to write, and I know I won’t make a fool of myself because everything I want to say is already in ink. Besides,” he sighs, turning it into a groan mid-way. “I’m pretty sure he’d either run away or punch me before I could get a word out. Maybe both.”

“True,” Allura muses, and then pushes herself off the wall. “But if you can’t talk to him in person, then what do you plan on doing?”

Lance glances up at her through his lashes, rubbing the back of his neck to ease the tension in his shoulders before replying sheepishly. 

“I was kinda hoping you’d be able to tell me.”

Allura hums, tapping a finger against her arm as she does. And then, just when Lance is sure she’s about to give him nothing in terms of advice, she beams, and her eyes light up as she grabs him by the shoulders. 

“I  _ got _ it,” she whispers excitedly, and glances down the hall once before indulging him with her brilliance. “Make it into a game!”

Lance blinks, sure he heard wrong.

“A  _ game? _ Isn’t that the exact  _ opposite  _ of what I should be doing?”

“Okay, yeah,” Allura admits, only deflating slightly. “Game wasn’t the right word. I meant more of a puzzle.”

“You’re making less sense,” Lance complains, rubbing his eyes with his palms as he grumbles. 

“No! Just listen!” Allura urges, and pulls his hands from his face to regain his attention. “We did a gift exchange last winter, and I remember Matt getting Keith’s name. He was whining because he had no idea what to get him, and I recall Shiro saying that Keith likes puzzles.”

“Puzzles,” Lance repeats, the mental image of a thousand piece picture of the words ‘I’m sorry’ coming to mind. Allura must know what he’s thinking - which Lance is coming to expect of the girl - and smacks his arm lightly.

“Not  _ that _ kind of puzzle. I mean like codes and riddles and that sort of thing. If you leave him another note trying to explain yourself he’s clearly not gonna read it. He probably doesn’t want to play into this game he thinks you’re starting. So change it. Change it so that you’re playing  _ his  _ game.”

Lance grunts once, ready to argue, but then frowns as he thinks about it longer. 

_ A game? A puzzle? Codes and clues and….wow, I didn’t know Keith liked that sort of thing.  _

_ Why do I find that to be cute? _

He can’t contain the smile that accompanies that thought, and glances back at Allura as his mind is suddenly made up.

“A game, eh? I think I can do that…”

“Oh, and I’ll teach you how to fold notes into stars.”

“Why?”

Allura shrugs, pulling him along back to the cafeteria. 

“It’s more attention grabbing. More special. He might feel bad about just throwing it out if he thinks you put effort into it.”

“I  _ do _ put effort in-!” Lance tries to retort, but he breaks off soon enough. Allura has a point, and he’s too eager about this new plan to be bothered much by her lack of faith in his devotion. “Gah, alright. Show me how to do it then.”

She grins, and together they find a table in the back away from prying eyes. It doesn’t take long for Lance to learn how to make the paper stars, but lunch ends quicker than expected.

“Oh shoot,” Allura curses under breath as the shrill bell bounces around the room. “I have an appointment this afternoon so I won’t be around later to help you actually  _ write _ the notes.”

“That’s okay,” Lance waves her off. “I have an idea of what to do.”

“You do?” She sounds skeptical, which is somewhat understandable given her last few experiences with one of his notes. But he nods, confident as he toys with the paper star he’d just folded. 

“Yeah. I think I know how to get his attention.”

He feels himself smirk, and ignores the look Allura shoots his way.

“Okay well, I’m still not changing sides if this goes sideways, so just be careful, alright?”

He doesn’t answer. He’s too preoccupied with putting the rest of his plan together, and Allura leaves with a wave he doesn’t notice. 

His afternoon is virtually class free, but where he would typically hang out outside or just head home early, he sticks around in the library, folding star after star: each carrying a note. A clue. Just like Allura said.

Just like Keith apparently likes. 

And when school ends he leaves with a bounce in his step after setting everything up. He’s nervous for tomorrow, but in a good way. He’s excited. And terrified. But he has a feeling that  _ this _ time….this time it’ll work.

Because he’ll be playing Keith’s game now. Sort of. 

Either way, Friday morning comes, and Lance goes to his classes. And he almost squeals in delight when he sees Keith walk in. 

He doesn’t mind that he’s ignored. He won’t be for long. 

Just a few more hours. 

He only has to wait until the end of school….

It’s excruciating, being patient. But he perseveres until finally it’s ten minutes until the last bell rings. He leaves class early with the excuse of using the bathroom, and makes his way down the deserted hallway towards locker number 313.

He doesn’t have a note to hide. Not here anyways. But that doesn’t mean he neglects to leave a message.

This is the catalyst: the trigger. He needs Keith to pay him some mind. He needs to do something to get his attention. And the best way to do that is...well... 

It’s hastily scrawled: letters sloppy and smudged in places when his hand brushed up against the words. But when it’s done it’s easy enough to read.

Lance doesn’t linger though, as the bell sounds, and he knows he’ll be in huge trouble if he’s found out now.

So he gives the locker a final look, and grins to himself as he nods in satisfaction. The classrooms are beginning to empty: kids eager to start their weekend and head home.

Lance runs, but he still hears the gasps that he knows come from the message he’s left for Keith. And it’s funny really, how it’s the same thing written on the note that Keith was supposed to get in the first place. 

**_Fight me you coward._ **

Only he’s added some coordinates, because he’s playing Keith’s game now, and as the murmurs of the gathering crowd chase after him down the hall, Lance almost laughs, imagining the reactions. 

But he doesn’t stop to linger. He has somewhere to be.

All he has to do now is wait.

****

He really hates waiting. 

It’s honestly the worst part of anything: watching the seconds drag on, checking his phone every hour to discover only three minutes have passed.

The nerves aren’t helping, and each tick of his watch is like a horn in his ears: loud and  _ very _ difficult to ignore. 

But he has to wait. He can’t rush this. He has to let Keith decide if he wants to play or not.

So to help pass the time, Lance goes through the list of notes he’d left for Keith to find: the trail that will  _ hopefully _ lead him here in the end.

First was the message on the locker. 

Bold. Dangerous. But enough to get Keith to notice. Enough to get him mad, and wanting to swing a few punches.

The coordinates were bonus, and acted both to discourage onlookers from trying to witness a showdown and prompt Keith into action.

Because if Lance had just written ‘meet behind the parking lot’, he doubts Keith would have shown. Even with the obvious challenge etched in permanent marker for all to see. No. If what Allura said was true, and Keith is a fan of clues and codes and puzzles...then those coordinates will have him hooked.

At least, that’s what Lance is hoping for. He’s not entirely positive that his plan will work. All he can do is wait...and wait…

He sighs, wanting to expel the anxiety, and moves onto the next step.

The coordinates, should Keith choose to follow them, lead to the gym. And if Keith goes to the gym, he’ll find it empty. 

And if he walks in, he’ll find a star-shaped piece of paper on the bench by the basketball nets, where the two of them would always compete to see who could shoot more hoops. And if he opens it, he’ll read the first note.

**_Dear Keith._ **

**_If you’re reading this, it means you’ve decided to give me a chance. Do you remember where we first met? Go there next._ **

Followed by a roughly drawn map just in case Keith doesn’t recall.

And, going over it now, Lance realizes he’s left a lot of room for error. What if Keith doesn’t find that first note? What if he goes to the gym and finds it empty and just... _ gives up?!  _

_ Shh. It’s okay. It’s his choice.  _

But no amount of reassurance can ease the growing stress.

_ Just wait. It’s all you can do. _

Third step. 

If Keith remembers their first meeting, he’ll go towards the principal's office. And if he doesn’t then Lance prays his map is enough to get him there. Regardless, if he gets there, another star-shaped note will be pinned to the message board by the office door.

And if he opens it he’ll read:

**_Dear Keith._ **

**_This was where we first met. I don’t know if you remember it or not, but I do. I was asked to show you around the school, and I wasn’t all that pleased because I was missing out on Drama and that’s like, my fav class. But as we walked I started to change my mind. You were quiet at first. Didn’t say much. And then we ran into Lotor and he said something to me...I don’t remember what it was, but you called him a ‘greasy-haired dildo’ and ran off as he chased after you. I still laugh at that sometimes._ **

He’d placed a few stickers after the end of that one: the same stickers Coran uses when marking their tests.

Which means, if Keith gets that far, his next stop will be the physics room.

And if he goes there he’ll find his star-shaped note tucked in the corner of the blackboard, dusted in chalk.

**_Dear Keith._ **

**_I was always jealous of how smart you are. Before I was top in the class, but after you showed up I had to work for it. I’m not mad though. If anything you made me study harder. Now all you have to do is get that squeaky chair of yours fixed. I swear you keep using it just to annoy me. It’s like you enjoy making music or something..._ **

And in the space left over there’s an equation that Keith will have to solve in order to find the right room number for his next clue.

Lance made sure to make it difficult. He knows Keith can handle it, and at this point, if he’s gotten this far without giving up, Lance allows himself to hope that Keith’ll make it to the end. 

But first, step five. 

The note will be in the music room, hidden by the piano.

**_Dear Keith._ **

**_You probably don’t know this, but I once heard you playing in here. You probably thought there was no one around, but I was in the hall, listening. You’re really amazing at it. Hearing you play made me want to go in and say something, but I was too scared. I’m trying not to be anymore, so if you want, go to the:_ **

And there’s a line of piano notes that Lance is really hoping spell out the word he was wanting. Writing music is  _ hard _ , and he really got an appreciation for people who are able to read it so fluently. 

People like Keith, for example.

So there’s five lines, a treble clef, and three dots: one in the third row, one in the second, and one in the first. 

And if Keith gets it right - if Lance  _ made _ it right - then he should wind up in the cafeteria. Lance was sort of hesitant about this one, seeing as it exposes a secret he’d been keeping for a while now:

That he knows where Keith likes to sit at lunch. 

And that’s not that creepy, right? It’s not like Keith eats in the cafeteria daily to begin with, but every once and a while he’ll walk in and choose a spot on the steps leading up to the stage. 

Lance doesn’t know when he first noticed it, but the fact remains that he  _ had, _ and Keith would sit in that same spot without fail each time he visited the dining hall.

So if he gets there, and goes to that same place, he’ll find one more note sitting on the step leading up to the stage.

**_Dear Keith._ **

**_What makes you want to sit here? What songs do you listen to as you zone out the rest of us? Where does your mind travel as you stare out the windows? Do you think about life? Do you think about school? Do you think about how annoying it is to have someone like me watching you from the corner of their eye? Probably. I would too. But the truth is, whenever you come here and sit in this spot, all I can think about is you._ **

**_And I want to know the answers to these questions. But I have one to ask you first. So if you’ll let me:_ **

And there’s a line of dots and dashes below the words: the final clue. The last step.

.. / .-- .. .-.. .-.. / -... . / .-- .- .. - .. -. --. / .- - / - .... . / ..-. .. . .-.. -..

So if Keith decides to trust him, and follows the notes and solves the puzzles….then he should be arriving anytime now.

The sun is hanging low in the sky, painting it orange and pink, and the field looks to be glowing. But Lance’s eyes are fixed on the gate leading in. He’s watching from his place on the bleachers, hoping,  _ praying _ , that he’ll see that familiar mullet appear in the gap in the fence. 

He’s waiting.  _ Waiting. _

Waiting.

And when the first stars start to appear in the growing dusk, he feels his lungs deflate with a deep exhale: heart throbbing painfully in his chest.

Because Keith isn’t coming. 

He’s not. It’s been too long. And Lance can’t wait any longer.

He sighs, staring down at his hands as his eyes grow blurry with unwanted tears. He shouldn’t cry. He doesn’t really deserve to. But just as the first droplet spills over his cheek, something in his periphery catches his attention. 

He whips his head around to look, and stares in shock as a figure hovers by the entrance to the field: eyes fixed on the spot where Lance sits on the bleachers. 

It’s Keith.

He’s here. 

_ He’s here! _

But Lance resists the urge to call out. He smiles, but he keeps it subtle, and wipes away the tears from his face. 

And when Keith slowly approaches he stands, and pulls out a stack of poster boards written in that same Sharpie he used on the locker: letters big and bright and easy for Keith to see from a distance.

Because this is his last note. And he follows along in his head as Keith pauses his advance, eyes wide and cheeks pink as he reads what it says. 

**_Dear Keith._ **

He flips the poster over, where the next phrase is written.

**_Let me start by saying-_ **

He picks up the next card, and holds it up over his head. 

**_I’M SORRY!!!!_ **

He flips it, bringing it back down.

**_I was a jerk to you. But it wasn’t your fault._ **

Next:

**_The note before wasn’t meant for you._ **

Flip.

**_But these ones are! Only you. No one else._ **

Next.

**_Because I think I like you._ **

Flip!

**_Like,_ ** **like** **_you like you._ **

And he picks up the last page of poster board, and lets his smile grow just a little bit bigger as he holds it out in front of him.

**_You’re beautiful and I would love to take you out for dinner at 7._ **

Just like that first note: the one Keith ended up getting by mistake.

_ Best mistake of my life,  _ Lance thinks, and he finally gets that reaction he’s been waiting for. 

Keith’s face turns a deep scarlet, and he covers his face with his hands - but not before Lance can see the grin that spreads out across his face.

It’s amazing. Better than anything he could have prepared himself for. And his heart feels light and airy and just….just  _ fantastic _ . It’s familiar, like how he used to feel when he was around Allura, before knowing what he does now. 

But it’s different. It’s stronger? Maybe? All Lance can tell is that he feels  _ great _ and Keith is  _ smiling _ and he really just wants to jump down off these bleachers and rush over to him and….and  _ hug _ him and  _ kiss  _ him and-

But he holds back. He has to let Keith decide.

Only, he’s a little tired of waiting, so he smirks as he crosses his arms over his chest and shouts down at where the boy is still standing with his face in his hands. 

“You’re late!”

And that does the trick. Keith lets his arms fall down to his sides: resting one at his hip as he scoffs up at Lance.

“You made the math question too hard!”

Lance laughs. He can’t help it, and all of a sudden Keith is moving again, coming closer, walking up the stairs of the bleachers and stopping directly in front of Lance.

And he’s smiling. That same smile from before, when he showed up at Lance’s doorstep fifteen minutes early for a date that hadn’t been meant for him. 

Only this time Lance doesn’t run.

This time he steps closer, and takes Keith by the hand. Because he can. Because he wants to. Because it’s okay. 

“It wasn’t  _ that _ hard,” he mumbles, giddy and beyond ecstatic when he feels Keith’s fingers curl around his own. 

“Then maybe it was the Morse Code,” Keith tries, leaning forward.

“They have translators for that,” Lance retorts, feeling his pulse race. “And you’re pretty clever, so…”

“Well, then…” Keith whispers, voice fading as he averts his eyes, “maybe it was because I was scared.”

Lance blinks, staring down at Keith as he leans back. But Keith won’t meet his gaze, so Lance places his finger beneath his chin and slowly lifts it up until he can see into those lovely dark eyes once more.

“I’m sorry,” he says, putting as much genuity into the words as he can muster. “I think I was scared too. But I’m not anymore. And I want...I mean,” he clears his throat, fiddling with Keith’s hand in his own nervously, “if  _ you _ want, I would  _ love _ to take you out to dinner.”

Keith huffs out a laugh, and the smile that comes back to his face is more brilliant than Lance remembers. He drinks it in: commits it to memory. And he wonders if he’ll be lucky enough to see it again.

And again.

And  _ again _ , if Keith lets him. 

“Is that a yes?” he prods when no answer is given, and Keith nods as his ears glow pink. In fact,  _ all  _ of Keith is pink, and Lance wonders if maybe he’s seeing him through a rose-coloured lens.

Or maybe it’s just the sunset.

Either way, it’s spectacular. 

“If you promise not to slam a door in my face, then yes.”

“Deal.” Lance answers immediately, and when Keith laughs he can’t help but join in. It feels natural. Normal. It feels right, and it’s okay. 

It’s more than okay.

The sun dips below the horizon, and overhead the stars twinkle and dance as if in celebration.

Lance holds Keith’s hand in his own: holds his gaze until his eyes begin to hurt. And they grin, and laugh, but they don’t say all that much.

They don’t need to. Not yet. There’ll be time for conversation later.

For now they just sit together, surrounded by poster board filled with words smudged in Sharpie.

Their minds are at ease, hearts beating in unison. 

They sit: smiles fond and pockets full of paper stars. 

And Lance is happy that he mixed up those notes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [www.vulpes--vulpes@tumblr.com]()


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